appreciations
View(s):Tears flowed, so did memories of an unforgettable teacher
SHIRANEE DOSS
The final farewell was not just emotional but also fitting. Past pupil, teacher and first lay Vice Principal of Holy Family Convent (HFC), Bambalapitiya, Shiranee Doss, had come home on Saturday, November 29, before being laid to rest at the General Cemetery, Kanatte, Borella.
Miss Doss who passed away around 7.30 p.m. on November 27, was 82 years old at the time of her death, having marked her birthday on October 15.
As her coffin was wheeled in to the beautiful light green-and-white chapel surrounded by the Prefects in their pristine white uniforms and blue and white ties and the Sisters of HFC, and the girlish voices of the choir were raised in harmony with the hymn, ‘Amazing Grace’, I am sure that wherever Miss Doss was, a gentle smile would have wreathed her lips.
Among the nuns were Provincial Superior of the HFC Sisters, Colombo Province, Sr. Chandani Jayasuriya; HFC Bambalapitiya Superior Sr. Shirani Waas; HFC Bambalapitiya Principal Sr. Charitha Thandalge; and Primary Principal Sr. Celina de Silva.
Truly, this chapel and the convent by the sea had been her home and that day, the terrible weather that had engulfed Sri Lanka, paused and withheld its cyclonic winds and lashing rains.
Small-made and slim she may have been, but Miss Doss walked the corridors of her alma mater like a gentle colossus, tenderly touching and impacting the lives of thousands of children, teachers and other staff at HFC.
The introduction by a teacher at the memorial service gave in brief the details of her life.
She said: “Miss Doss’s name is synonymous with the Familian values of simplicity and concern for others. An educator par excellence who went beyond the classroom to provide a holistic education for her students and everyone she encountered.
“Described by one of her teachers, Caryl White, as a quiet, diligent student, Miss Doss returned to her alma mater in 1968 and stayed on till 1978, teaching a range of subjects – from English to Social Studies, from Government Studies to History. She went on to become HFC’s first lay person and first past Familian to be made Vice Principal in 1977 and 1978.
“She left HFC to take up an appointment at the Overseas School but still found time to remain in touch with her alma mater by being the President of the Past Pupils’ Association (PPA) in 1982 and 1983. She also served on the Welfare Society of HFC as its Vice President and was a vital part of the Centenary Committee that spearheaded many events in 2003.
“Miss Doss returned to teaching at HFC and was re-appointed Vice Principal in the early 2000s. She left in 2015 after a long period of exemplary service as an inspirational teacher who was the epitome of dedication and loyalty.”
My association with Miss Doss goes back to the early 1970s, when our family moved to our home behind the National Zoological Gardens in Dehiwela. Miss Doss and her family – her mother, sister, brother-in-law and nephew lived nearly-opposite the Zoo.
So, my sister Anuranie Senior and I would board the same bus on Route 132 from Karagampitiya to Kiribathgoda along with Miss Doss to get to HFC and in the afternoon to get back home the other way round. She was a very young teacher and we were students back then. I think our parents would have been happy to have a young but very responsible teacher as our chaperone on the bus as it was the same one used by all those adolescent Peterites living in the same area.
Our families too, including my parents, attended the same mass at St. Mary’s Church, Dehiwela, every Sunday, and ‘marketed’ at the same pola (fair) at Karagampitiya (those were the days when there were no supermarkets).
Then in my Ordinary Level (OL) years, Miss Doss was my English teacher and how we thoroughly enjoyed the lessons. Once, trying to be too clever, I had quoted part of a well-known poem in my essay and I still remember how, without ridiculing me in front of the whole class, she called me to her table and explained why it did not fit there.
Proving that she was like no other, a few months before our OL examination, she told the girls in my class, again individually, who would get distinctions and who may not reach the required mark to pass English and urged them to work harder. Psychology at work in those early days, never humiliating a single student!
It was to her that many of us confided our secret crushes, which never saw the light of day of course, with no chastisement.
And when for me the deep clear bell-call, rang its summons never more, I met her at functions and the annual general meeting of the PPA, always the rational voice who reined me in, as I was hotheaded and spoke out against protocol disruption sometimes too forthrightly.
Knowing that this trait ran in my family, she would say, “It’s not what you are saying, but how you say it that you have to be mindful about.”
Then came time to admit our little daughter, Anuranie Junior, to school and as she progressed through Montessori, then Primary and onto the College, she too came under the all-encompassing influence of Miss Doss.
Without any persuasion, she felt the same about Miss Doss, what she said and what she did, being a constant in our family’s evening conversations. Miss Doss was also her English and English Literature teacher in her OL years.
When Anuranie had specifics to ask about the wide and varied world of poetry and prose, she was invited to the charming home of Miss Doss, set in a lovely garden off Dehiwela’s Hill Street, with not a cent being charged but showered with ice cream and chocolates and long chats.
Heartbroken when she did not achieve the grade she had expected for her precious Literature subject, it was Miss Doss who walked my daughter through that difficult time, by telling her that this was the sad plight of many students good in this subject, due to myopic marking of answer scripts. Anuranie knew that what Miss Doss told her was the truth because this was a teacher who never sugar-coated anything, if untrue.
And as the soul-stirring memorial service went on, these were the thoughts crowding my mind……the tears flowing not just of mine but also of many past Familians. Ironically, the ‘unsuitable’ quote from my essay long ago came from the dim recesses of my psyche – “But O for the touch of a vanish’d hand; And the sound of a voice that is still!” from the poem ‘Break, Break, Break’ by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
The comforting thought, however, was that even though Miss Doss is no more, she lives on in our very hearts and in our children.
May you rest in peace Miss Doss.
-Kumudini Hettiarachchi
I’ll cherish the memories
LILANGANIE janaki izzadeen
On this, the fourth anniversary of your passing, I remember the love, laughter, and memories we shared. My beloved wife, you were a beacon of hope, kindness and devotion, and your absence is deeply felt.
Your legacy lives on through our children, Fazeela my rock and our late sweet daughter Fazreen who left this world rather prematurely, our family, and the countless lives you touched. I’ll always cherish the moments we shared, during our good times. Please pardon me for any shortcomings I had.
Rest in peace, my love. I’ll see you again someday.
With eternal love, Fazal
A pillar of love
NOORUL HIDHAYA JABIR
The 18th of November marked one month since my mother Hajiani Mrs. Noorul Hidhaya Jabir received her call back to her Creator.
She was the beloved wife of late Al-Haj M.L.M. Jabir, a well known postmaster in his time. Umma, as she was fondly called by her children, married at the tender age of 17 and brought up six children; four boys and two girls. At the time of her passing, she was 90 years of age and the proud matriarch of a growing Jabir clan numbering 25 and spanning three generations.
Umma was the epitome of a loving and devoted wife and tireless, compassionate mother. Her strength, both physical and emotional, was superhuman by today’s standards. We never saw her break down and cry under the stress of housework, nor did we see her throw temper tantrums under pressure. For us children, she was always Umma, a solid pillar of love and trust no worldly force could shake, always there to run to with our complaints, gripes, wounds and broken hearts, all of which she would evaporate into thin air with a warm hug and soft, soothing words.
While our father shaped our discipline and education, Umma concentrated on inculcating soft skills; love, emotion, religion and social skills. She cooked three meals a day, maintained a spotless house, did the washing, and still found time to visit and entertain relatives, browse through a newspaper, listen to music, play snakes and ladders with me or make one of her special snacks for evening tea.
Umma lived through the loss of her husband, two of her children, all of her sisters and most of her brothers, calmly and quietly accepting the realities of life. But I’m sure she must have secretly and silently cried many tears, even though she always had a smile and a sparkle in her eyes for us. Even as she grew older and weaker, she valiantly maintained her loving, cheerful personality to the very end.
Umma is no more, but she lives within everyone she touched with her warmth and love. Her loud, ringing laugh resounds in our hearts, but alas not in our ears. We know for sure that Almighty Allah will grant her her rightful place in the eternal bliss of heaven.
M. Ayub Jabir
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